


Inescapable Nightmare

by Hollenka99



Series: Creator AU [16]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dyspraxia, Gen, Helplessness, Loss of Autonomy, Neurodiversity, Stimming, dysfunction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-20 23:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21289853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollenka99/pseuds/Hollenka99
Summary: Chase's Dyspraxia plays up and he's in for a bad time.
Series: Creator AU [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1277966
Kudos: 20





	Inescapable Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Based on something that happened to me last night. It's 2:30am and I'm fine now but it was rough earlier. Had to use Chase to make myself feel a little better.

It starts with his hands being shaken as if he was flinging water back towards the sink. Pacing follows within a minute. His palms occasionally coil into loose fists. Invisible maracas get played aggressively in those instances. Marvin had once seen him do this and likened it to Chase jerking a couple of people off. He'd told his friend to shut up. Despite laughing while doing so, Marvin's apology had been genuine.

Marvin's not here to see this. Nor are the others, for that matter. Chase is simply alone in his bedroom, disposing of excess happiness. Part of him regrets this happening today. Everyone's attention is focused on Jameson and Jackie. Trust Chase to stim on the worst day of the year for Jackie.

It'll be fine. Chase can grab a biscuit once he's done. Afterwards, he could check if anyone needs help keeping an eye on the household's currently most vulnerable members. There's about a dozen egos living here. Nothing will happen if he's indisposed for a few minutes. 

Okay, this sudden spike in energy consumption was making him a little dizzy now. Actually, he's not sure if it's the good kind of dizzy anymore. These deep yet slightly shaky breaths weren't helping either.

Uh, brain, you can stop now. You don't need to ramp it up. This was meant to be an emotional release, at least by his limited understanding. He doesn't know if all this movement in response to high levels of satisfaction could even be classified as stimming. All he does know is that it's getting uncomfortable. He's been overstimulated countless times before. This is swiftly escalating towards it.

Chase has long since stopped smiling.

He sits down. Maybe that'll calm him down a little. Nope. Get up. Pace more. Oh, there go his hands again.

Repeat that process over and over and over. He sits. He stands. His legs step in whichever direction they want. He sits again with slightly more desperation than the last time.

He sweeps his hair out of his face. Go away. He said go away. Fuck off already.

For some demented reason, he finds himself spinning around like he's Noah after too much sugar. Nobody's witnessing this. He shouldn't feel so self conscious about it. Yet he does.

Enough!

He plows his forehead into the pillow. Knees reach the top of his ribs. Arms squeeze around, brushing his knees as he continues to produce stressed huffs.

Fuck, he rarely stims. And never like this. Never like it's an inescapable nightmare. Please let his brain shut off. Please, God... please, please, please.

His body is back to stepping around the room when he hears popping in the distance. Damn you for celebrating Bonfire Night three days early. Just another addition to this clusterfuck of overstimulation. Thank you so much. Pricks.

What the hell does he do? Does he just wait for it to pass? Ride it out until his body gives up from exhaustion? That could take way longer than his sanity could last.

No-one's even there to watch him slowly lose his mind.

Okay, just sit on the bed. Stay sitting despite instinct to return to pacing. His body compensates. It rocks jaggedly back and forth. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. Back. Forth.

He relents. Looks like he's going to remain on his feet, not in control of his movements. Trapped in a body that didn't know what the fuck it wanted from this endeavour in the first place.

Maybe if he lies down. What if he listened to the recent Minecraft song? Nah. Within 10 seconds of the song playing, he comes to the conclusion it won't help. All the Way was too energetic for consideration. Besides, that was Jackie's default coping song. And ha, Jackie sure needed help to cope with today.

What Is My Life it is then. He prays making it his sole focus will work. He even mouths along partway through the song. An unsure smile makes a handful of unsuccessful attempts to emerge. Not yet.

It is with phenomenal relief that Chase notices his breathing has evened out. It seems to have worked. Oh, thank God. Thank fuck. He was past the frightening part. This could fade into another sour memory. To ensure it was truly over with, he scrolls through social media. Chase is still inhaling and exhaling at a more acceptable rate. His foot taps a succession of S in Morse code in the air. That's not unusual for him.

He certainly couldn't get away with a biscuit after that ordeal. There was some sort of microwavable meal involving chicken and pasta in the fridge, if memory served correctly. Simple enough. He required simple tonight.

Standing, especially walking, triggers the desire to pace. It was too soon. That was fine. He resumes lying on his back and breathing. Food can wait a little while longer. Besides, it wasn't even 7pm yet. Going down the hall to the kitchen can be his small victory for the night. Once he's finally eating the chicken and pasta, he can enjoy the achievement. Chase is regaining control of his body and eating microwaved pasta or so help him.

He was going to be okay. The worst was supposedly over. He'd be okay.


End file.
